The Melody of a Lovesick Heart
by Moonbeam-987
Summary: Casey sits on her couch every night just to have her heart broken over and over again. It's almost like a lovesick melody being played every night at the same time. But tonight something is different... Rated T


**Hello wonderful world! Here I am at 1:07am posting a oneshot:) I had a rough night, and this idea just floated into my head and flowed out of my fingers. This is my first oneshot where I don't have any dialogue, and I really hope I did it correctly.**

**I got my insperation for this due to the song _Lovesick Melody_ by Paramore, and I think that this really helped me with the feelings I was wrestling with. So I reallllllllllllllllllly hope that you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own LWD, but I do hope to get Michael Seater for Christmas!;)**

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><p>The doorbell rings, and I don't even think about getting up and getting it. I know that if I did get up and answer the door I would be confronted with Derek's flavor of the <em>day<em>. Yes, he has started to have flavors of the day instead of the week. So I just stayed where I was sitting on the couch and the girl standing on the other side of the door pressed the doorbell with impressive vigor.

He comes running down the stairs, half dressed, and gives me a loathsome look. I just turn my head back to the TV pretending like I never saw him. I hear a sigh and he answers the door. He tells the unnamed girl that he isn't quite yet ready and that he will be down in a minute. He then continues to tell her that she can sit on the couch beside his klutz of a stepsister.

She giggles; he laughs, and runs back up the stairs leaving this blonde bimbo to sit beside me.

My blood boils as she asks me incessant questions about Derek. Sure I know every answer, but so should she since she _says_ she is his girlfriend. She should know his favorite food, color, hockey team, drink; she should know everything about him, but she doesn't because she is not his girlfriend. She is just one girl that caught his attention enough for him to walk up and talk to. She's just like the others; an airhead floozy that doesn't even have enough brain cells to walk and chew gum at the same time.

Every night a girl rings the doorbell and the same thing happens over and over again. Derek answers the door and leaves the girl downstairs with me while he is "still getting dressed" and I am forced to make small talk. Soon after he comes running down the stairs, grabs the girl by the waist, and forces his tongue down her throat, his eyes wide open, staring at me. I am to sit there and watch as my heart is being shattered into a million pieces.

Sure I want to scream, shout, yell; but I don't. I stay quiet and just look into the big, brown vortexes that he calls eyes. They're bright and lucid, looking straight passed the girl he was making out with to me.

I could turn away, I could just stay in my room, I could go hang out with Emily; but I don't. I sit on the couch every night just waiting for this one moment where he looks at me like that.

But as soon as its starts it ends. They pull apart and he snakes his arm around her waist, shouting over his shoulder that he will be back around eleven. As soon as the door shuts, I turn into weeping shell of the strong girl I was just two seconds ago. I sit on the couch for hours letting the body wracking sobs over take me. Each family member knows not to mess with me when I am in this state, and they just go about their nights as they would if I wasn't sitting on the couch having a mental breakdown. Soon after everyone one goes to bed I get up and move to my room so Derek won't see me in this state. It's like a lovesick melody playing over and over again in my head.

But tonight there is something different. As I start to get up from the couch I can hear his keys sliding into the lock and my instinct to run kicks in, but I trip on the first step. I try to stand up, but I'm not quick enough, he walks in the door and sees me. He sees that my eyes are puffy, the tears that are still falling from my cheeks, and the fear in my eyes. He looks down at me with a bemused look and I can feel my face growing redder. He reaches his hand out to me to help me up, but I get up by myself and quickly run up the stairs. By the time I got under my comforter, the sound of his sneakers hitting each step was like a hammer in my head; each step pushing me farther and farther into insanity.

I burrow farther into my bed, hoping that sleep would soon over take my senses. Just as my eyes start to droop, my door opens an inch and light floods into my room hitting my eyes. The door swings fully open and I have to squint to make out the figure standing in my doorway.

He shuts my door and starts to walk over to my bed. The sound of my sheets rustling makes my adrenaline pump faster and I close my eyes hoping this is just a dream. His body slides closer to mine and he starts playing with strands of my hair. We both stay quiet, with just a few sounds around us keeping the silence from being awkward. The sound of the sheets rustling when either of us moves, the sound of crickets, and the sound of our hearts beating rapidly sticks into my mind. I try to soak as much of this in as I can, knowing that it will probably never happen again.

He whispers my name. My body freezes in a state of shock, not knowing how to reply. I stay silent and he does too. After a few moments he whispers my name again; I still don't say a word. After he makes the connection that I'm not going to say anything he moves to where his arms are around me and he flips me over to where I'm looking into his eyes. How is it possible for someone's eyes to be bright in the pitch-dark? He just stares into my eyes, and I can't help but to stare back. Slowly he presses his forehead against mine and my breath starts coming faster; it hurts my chest.

His face gets closer and closer to mine; my eyes automatically close knowing what was to come. Our lips collided as little sparks of electricity bloomed under my skin where his hands were roaming over my body. We stayed like this for an immeasurable amount of time, and with each passing second I could feel my old self rising to the surface, wanting more of him. My hands moved over his sculpted body as he fingered the hem of my shirt. There was I little voice in the back of my head telling me to stop, that this would set me back from the months that I spent just getting me to the blubbering mess that I am now, but I pushed that voice farther back and fell into what I really wanted; Derek.

Suddenly he pulled back and the way he moved away from me stung. The fire in his eyes was burning bright, and it seemed like he was really trying to stay away from me. He whispered a soft sorry, and then got out of the bed. I choked out his name and he pause where he was, waiting for me to continue. I said how much I missed him, how I wish that things would have been different on his part, and how I wish I could fix everything for us; he just stood and listened. He only whispered two words; I'm sorry. We both knew that there was a difference between this sorry and the first sorry. The first sorry came from him coming in my room and what went on, this sorry came from months ago. My head spun and I watched the scene play in front of my eyes.

Derek, a blonde, unknown girl, and the Prince. Derek and I had been together for almost a year, and I was completely in love with him. One night after a hockey game Derek went to Sam's party and I went to Emily's house. Around one in the morning I realized that Derek hadn't come home yet, so a grabbed the keys to the family minivan and drove to Sam's house. As I pulled up I saw that Derek was in his car but he wasn't alone. There was a lot of screaming and crying that night, but not once did he apologize.

I always figured that it was because he wasn't sorry for what he did, but maybe I was wrong. Now that he stands here with his back turned to me, hunched and in pain, maybe I was wrong to assume his feelings.

I ask why he didn't tell me before; he shrugs his shoulders and replies saying that he didn't think I would believe him. Sure I wouldn't have, but I think it would have made it easier on us. He turns his face back to me, I see tears streaking down his face, and my heart aches with an unbearable pain. He slowly moves back to the bed and presses his lips softly against mine one last time. He whispers an I love you, but I can't say it back. The past sets thick in my throat, and I can't say anything back to him. His lips faltered, pain etching into his features. It made my stomach lurch and my head spin looking at him in pain, but in the back of my mind, for a moment, I thought he deserved it.

A few moments of it soaking in I realized that he did deserve all of this. After all of the girls, tears, and pain he caused me, he deserved it and more. I quietly requested that he leave my room, and after a moment of utter shock, he left as quietly as he came.

I rolled back over in my bed and sleep welcomed me with open arms, and I let this night melt away. For the first time in eight months, I slept a nightmare less night. I finally stopped the lovesick melody.

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><p><strong>I hope you liked it. Pretty please review and make my day:)<strong>


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